


Caged Heat

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Series: Sportsfest 2018 [4]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Bouncer Sanada, Cage Dancer Yukimura, Club AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: The club's newest dancer is incredible, and Sanada watches him in awe, unable to look away. He isn't the only one who watches, but he is the only one who is allowed to touch.





	Caged Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for sportsfest bonus round 1.

Sanada couldn't look away from him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Pale creamy skin moved lithely to the beat of the pulsing music blaring in the club. The subtle haze of cigarette smoke haloed around him, casting an almost ethereal glow against the spotlight cast on the suspended dancing cage.

The club's new dancer was a new kind of animal, indeed.

Leaning against the frame of the door he was minding, Sanada stared at this magnificent creature, a new guy named Yukimura, his breath stalled in his throat. The artfully weathered skinny jeans clung to shapely legs, and a taut midriff peeked out below a loose cropped black tee that contrasted with the silken flesh underneath.

Yukimura was popular already. Coins clattered onto the floor of the cage while he danced, and when his shift wound down, one of the stock boys hauled out almost a full jar of bills and coins that Sanada guessed was north of thirty thousand yen. 

The prime club hours past and his earning potential curbed by empty pockets, Yukimura headed toward the side exit that Sanada monitored. On his way out, he gave Sanada a warm smile. “Goodnight, Sanada. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course.” Sanada gave him a curt bob of the head and opened the door leading to the alley behind the stage. For the rest of the night, Sanada’s attention flagged because he could not push the image of Yukimura’s smooth, sensual movements from his mind. 

The next night, he hailed Yukimura’s arrival with a short wave, which was met with a knowing smile. So Yukimura _did_ know how much time Sanada spent watching him dance but showed no signs of wanting him to stop. 

This aching ritual dragged on for weeks before there was a shift in their routine, the disturbance coming courtesy of a loud, intoxicated salaryman trying to climb on the sides of Yukimura’s cage. His feet dangled in the air as he hefted himself against the cage door and started shaking it.

It wasn't his job and he shouldn't have left his post, but Sanada’s body moved of its own accord. He stormed through the gawking crowd and, with his superior height, he grabbed the man by the sweaty collar of his shirtsleeves and wrenched him away from the cage in a single brutal motion. 

The man hit the floor with a thud swallowed by the music, but even that ground to a stop when the dj noticed the altercation. The bouncers on duty swarmed the area, dragging the man away from the dance floor and roughly depositing him into the street.

Sanada looked up, ready to ease Yukimura from the cage and escort him from the club. He harrumphed when he saw Yukimura standing with crossed arms, foot tapping as he waited for the situation to dissolve.

“I was going to see if you were all right.” Sanada quirked a brow. “You seem to be doing well considering.”

Yukimura cast a scathing glance in the direction where his would-be assailant had been escorted out. “It’s nothing to be concerned about. He wouldn’t have laid a hand on me and walked away with it still attached.”

“Good.” Sanada held out a hand to help Yukimura out of the cage. “I’ll walk you home.”

Taking Sanada’s proffered gesture, Yukimura slipped out of the cage door and dropped to the floor with barely a sound. He gave Sanada a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “I was hoping you would say that.”

In the back, he waited for Yukimura to change, and he emerged in a pair of old, faded jeans and a simple button-up shirt. He smiled at Sanada. “Shall we?”

The two of them passed through the neighborhood in no particular hurry, with the two of trading inane questions with inana answers. Sanada got up early, Yukimura liked plants. Sanada was a fair hand at kendo, and Yukimura used to be a nationals-level tennis player.

At the door to Yukimura’s studio, Sanada inclined his head and said, “Have a good night.”

He was halfway down the hall before he heard Yukimura call out, “Genichirou.”

The sound of his given name on Yukimura’s lips made Sanada shiver a little before he turned around. “Do you need something?”

“Yes.” Yukimura gave him a wry look. “You can start by undressing me with your hands instead of your eyes like you usually do.”

Sanada swallowed hard, his throat dry and thick at Yukimura’s bald proposal, but the rest of him knew exactly what to do.

They stumbled into Yukimura’s place, with long legs wrapped around Sanada’s torso as Sanada buried his face in the curve of Yukimura’s neck. Soft, needy sounds oozed out of Yukimura, in stark contrast with the bruising strength with which he gripped Sanada’s biceps. He may have looked like a kitten, but Sanada wouldn’t mistake this man for one.

One very stimulating, informative hour later, Sanada lay on Yukimura’s bed, running his fingers through silken blue-black hair while his partner dozed splayed out on his chest. He was even beautiful while he slept.

Yet an hour with Yukimura didn’t put Sanada under any illusion that the man was soft or weak; the rough scratches on his back and the bite marks marring the skin of his shoulder dismissed those thoughts immediately. Even while buried to the hilt inside Yukimura, Sanada knew he was not the one in charge of their coupling. He was there because Yukimura willed it, wanted it.

He was Yukimura’s subject, and Sanada _liked_ it.

After a while, Sanada sighed and stirred Yukimura awake. “I should go back to work.”

“No.” Yukimura’s arms clamped down on Sanada’s torso. “I told the manager you wouldn’t be back for the night. He said it was fine.”

Sanada almost snorted at Yukimura’s assumption that Sanada was going to agree to sleep with him, but lying there spent and smeared with a slurry of come and lube, he couldn’t deny that Yukimura had known Sanada’s desire before he had known it himself.

That suited Sanada just fine. They settled back down and Sanada let the ease of sleep take over. He had never been claimed before, but as long as this almost godlike creature was his overlord, Sanada thought it would suit him rather well.


End file.
